


The Things Legends Are Made Of

by Ffwydriad



Category: Angela (Marvel Comics), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Aliens, Asgard, Attempt at Humor, Awesome Jane Foster, BAMF Jane Foster, F/F, F/M, Gen, POV Jane Foster, Past Jane Foster/Thor, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Quests, Space Opera, This is what happens when you leave Jane and Sif out of the movies I guess, general badassery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 22:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14435649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ffwydriad/pseuds/Ffwydriad
Summary: Mjolnir, shattered, with a force that echoed through the realms. Asgard, burned, destroyed, nothing but chunks of dust and rock remaining from the golden, gleaming halls. A people, scattered, cast out unto the stars. A plague of death hangs upon the universe.There is a hammer sitting on Jane Foster’s kitchen table.





	The Things Legends Are Made Of

There’s a hammer sitting on Jane Foster’s kitchen table.

It’s sat there before, but this time, this time is different, because Thor is gone, long gone, and Mjolnir is in her house without him.

She watches it, sometimes, when eating or doing work there. Hoping to see it move, even just a little. When Thor calls, Mjolnir comes flying, after all. But Thor doesn’t call. Sometimes, she thinks she sees it twitch, a little, but that’s probably just a problem in her eyes, hallucinating things she wants to happen.

They aren’t dating. That much has been made clear. She loves him, but she can’t do this, has a life to lead that she can’t spend waiting for him to come back, because she knows he never will.

But Mjolnir, sitting on her kitchen table, she has to wonder what it means. Some strange Asgardian courting ritual? Or maybe, maybe Thor is dead, and that’s why it doesn’t move. It sits here in what it thinks of home, waiting for someone to pick it up, someone who she thinks will never come.

Perplexing.

It takes a month before she breaks down and studies it. It’s hard to do proper scanning, given the way it’s sitting on her kitchen table, but she manages to do a surprising amount. The most interesting thing is what seems to be shatter lines in the metal, as if it had been blown to pieces and sewn back together, with only the faintest creases, like it was not quite fully molten.

The material is, well, for the most part it’s made of familiar elements, even if their structure is completely unknown. The weirdest thing is the energy that seems to resonate within the molecular structure. She wishes she had studied more chemistry, because she’s certain that this energy is the basis of much of Asgard’s magic.

The hammer doesn’t chip. She didn’t expect it to, of course. It seems to give off a disgruntled feeling after she tries, and so she spends a few minutes apologizing to it. That feels weird, personifying the hammer like that, but it’s hard not to. Besides, the Asgardians having semi-sentient weapons wouldn’t be the strangest thing she had to deal with.

She doesn’t try to pick it up. At Thor’s behest, she did try once, and he told her that it seemed to budge, and she’s not certain if it was true or a lie to make her feel better.

Mostly, she waits for someone to come. Half of her expects Shield, and she laughs at the image of them set up in her house like they once had been in the deserts of New Mexico. They didn't find anything about the hammer then, and she doubts they'd find anything now. She backs up her research, just in case, because she doesn't want to lose it all again. She's not even certain if Shield even exists any more, but the paranoia lingers.

The other half expects Asgard. Thor, walking up to her door, sheepish or desperate or lovestruck or whatever emotion explains the fact Mjolnir is here instead of with him. Or maybe Loki, coming to gloat, to try the hammer, to cast some spell to ensure not even someone worthy shall ever find it again. Sif, the Warriors Three, come to at last bear her the news of Thor's demise. The court of Asgard at her door, to find who will next be worthy.

Two months, and no one comes. The edge begins to fade.

That's when someone finally comes.

She hears it before she sees it, a loud rumbling sound, a sound she doesn't quite understand until she stares out the back door to see the space ship. It is small, but it's still bigger than her backyard, hovering above the ground. It is a space ship, not a quinjet from Shield, that she's certain of. It just doesn't look like any ship she saw on Asgard.

The door - the ramp - the whatever it is opens, and four people jump out, and she finds that she isn't certain whether or not she should be worried. At the head is Sif, at least, she thinks it is Sif, although the armor she wears is different. Behind her are two women she does not recognize, who don't exactly dress like the Asgardians do, and a bright orange horse faced alien.

"Lady Jane!" Sif declares, arms wide, a smile upon her face. "I wondered why we would be led to a mortal home, but seeing you here makes all of the answers fall in to place."

"Sif," Jane says, warily. "Why are you here?"

"Why, we come to find Thor," Sif says, and pauses. "I set up a trace on Mjolnir, which has led us to your step."

"Thor isn't here," Jane says. "He hasn't been back on Earth since - for a long time. Why isn't he on Asgard?"

Sif's face drops, and she shifts, eyes downcast. "Lady Jane, Asgard is destroyed."

Jane stops, and stares. "I think you should come inside," she says, and steps aside to let the motley group come in. Sif pauses, only partially inside, to stare at where Mjolnir sits motionless on the kitchen table.

"He didn't leave it here, did he?" Sif asks.

"It just appeared one day," Jane says. "I haven't heard from him for almost a year. Sif, what did you mean, Asgard is destroyed. What happened?"

Sif says nothing, but sits down at the table, fingers interlaced, to stare at the hammer. "I don't know," she says, finally. "I had hoped you would."

* * *

“Oh, you should see it, my friends,” Sif proclaims loudly, leaning back in the pilot’s chair of the ship. “So few sights in all the universe rival the golden halls of Asgard. The revelry for our return shall undoubtedly last for days, so long has it been since last a quest of this magnitude was completed.”

“Were you not banished from Asgard?” Bill asks her, leaning against the cabin walls.

“A minor inconvenience,” Sif replies smoothly, ignoring the Korbonite's chuckle, “and surely to be undone when Odin learns that, after these so many years, I have returned his lost daughter to him.”

Angela scoffs at that. “I will meet the All-Father, and thus fulfill my debt to you, but I will not play along with this charade. The man is no sire to me.”

“Perhaps not,” Sera says, “but I can imagine very little I would like more, than telling a tale like this to such an audience as Asgard.”

“It shall be grand! I can see it now, the feast hall packed, but silent, enraptured, as the Lady Sera weaves the yarn of all that has come to pass on this long quest. I only wish the Lady Frigga had been able to see this return.” The view outside the ship begins to slip, as they drop out of the colorful warp, and Sif removes her sword from it’s place in the mechanisms. “Behold, Asgard -”

She gestures widely at the window, and then stares in shock, as they see naught but an asteroid belt.

“You reveal would work much better if the coordinates were correct,” Sera says with a laugh, as Sif stares down at the charts before her.

“They are correct,” she says, staring down in shock. “Bill, can you-”

“On it,” he says, taking the seat beside her, and scanning the debris, as Sif checks their location against the scans of nearby systems. There is the small beep of confirmation, and Bill stares in shock at the results.

“What is it?” Angela asks, staring down at the screen.

“Asgard,” he says, looking out at the asteroid field. “We're looking at the debris of Asgard.”

“No!” Sif yells, slamming her hands against the computer. “It can’t be! The fall of Asgard, Ragnarok-” she grabs her sword and stabs it in to the wall, enraged. “They’re dead. They’re all dead. How could this come to pass?” She runs her hands through her hair, and looks back out, to stare at the ruins, the empty space where one the great halls had stood.

Sera elbows Angela in the side, before she can say anything. Sif sits back down at the controls, ruminating.

"Asgard may be destroyed, but there have to be survivors," she says. "Bill, I need you to scan for this specific compound and energy frequency."

"Uru metal?" Bill asks, confused. "What are you searching for, Sif?"

"The thing that should survive even the end of all things," Sif murmurs, "and hopefully, it's wielder along with it. Asgard may have fallen, but I still hold hope that Thor lives." Bill nods, and sets in the details, the pair of them waiting almost anxiously for the results.

The scanners beep, and lock in new coordinates. She turns back, to match eyes with Angela and Sera, who look upon the scene in bemusement, or as close as Angela's features ever get to any emotion close to that. "It seems that our deal may still stand. I can't be certain about the All-father, but if Mjolnir survives, then it seems I shall reunite you with your brother at the very least."

With that, she grabs her sword from where it pierces the wall, and sets it back down in to the slot beside the pilot's seat. It twists in to place, and the rainbow warp returns, the ship hurtling off in to the void.

* * *

The five of them sit at her kitchen table. Sif stares intently at the hammer, and the orange alien - who has introduced himself politely as Bill - stares intently at Sif. The other two, who Bill has introduced as Angela and Sera, although she isn't quite certain which is which, seem to care less, although the hammer interests them. For her part, Jane sits back, and tries to reason everything she now knows.

"I ran an analysis," she says. "It was covered in cracks. Like it had been broken apart, shattered, and then reformed." 

"There is very little in this world that can even scratch Mjolnir," Sif murmurs. "An ill omen indeed."

"Do you think whatever did this destroyed Asgard?" Jane asks. 

"We know what destroyed Asgard," Sera says. "The tale of Ragnarok is not a difficult one to find, I heard it often as a nursery story in Heven. Surtr, king of Muspelheim, who wields a fiery sword, and rises, splitting Asgard in two. The Golden City dies."

"They are to end in fire," Sif mutters, "and let their gilded halls fall."

"If he can destroy Asgard, could he-" Jane starts.

"No," Sif says. "But I think I know who could."

If Sif plans on sharing who she thinks broke Mjolnir - who she thinks might have slain Thor - she isn't able to, because that's when the strange green aliens come bursting through her door, wielding giant sci-fi guns and trashing their way through her house.

"These fools again?" Sera asks, as Sif and Angela draw their swords, and Bill a hammer, the three of them crashing down violently on the incoming horde in her living room. Sera pulls back, and weaves a spell, purple energy gathering at her fingertips, and Jane just stands there, not quite sure what to do.

Her living room is getting destroyed, and there are more of the green aliens, flanking her, and she grabs blindly for something to use as a weapon as they get close, her hand clenching, and swinging, and it isn't until three of them are down and the air crackles with electricity that she looks down to see what she has grabbed.

Silver armor covers her arm, and her hand is clenched tight around the leather grip of Mjolnir's handle. She's caught up, for a few moments, and the winds swirl around her, a small hurricane, with her at the center.

"Holy shit," Sera says, and the winds fade, and the aliens are running away.

"You-" Sif starts, shocked. "You're worthy," she says, finally, and a smile begins to form. "Wait until Thor sees this."

"He might be dead," Jane says, and her voice echoes on the wind.

"Perhaps," Sif says. "But with you at our side, we can venture into whatever realm of death has him in grip, and pull him back. I have a promise to keep, after all."

Angela rolls her eyes. 

"A venture in to the realm of the dead?" Sera says, and laughs. "And here I thought our tale had everything."

"I promised you days of revelry, at the end of this quest," Sif says, the smile growing wide and beaming. "I was wrong. When we pull Asgard back from the very brink of death, I guarantee, the feasts shall last a straight month, with us eternal honored guests. These are the things undying legends are made of."

A part of her wants to say no. There is research she needs to be doing, after all, but then again, she feels the thunder crackle, the storms whipping their ways through her heart, the call of adventure singing out. The realm of the dead, travel through the stars, as much as she enjoys her work, there's nothing that can pull her away from this.

She can't wait to see Thor's reaction when they meet again. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna preemptively apologize for the fact I probably won't continue this, at least not for a while. At the very least, it works okay as a standalone for now. I'm not quite sure how this is gonna continue, but I wanted to put the first chapter up here anyways. 
> 
> This combines two concepts I had pretty soon after Thor Ragnarok - the first being Sif, exiled from Asgard by Loki-Odin, finding the lost daughter of Odin, Angela, and epic quests and all that, and the second being Mjolnir, reformed, hanging out on Jane's kitchen table. Don't know why it took me so long to combine the two. Maybe I was frightened, by the sheer collective badassery of all these characters. The universe trembles at their combined mighty force.


End file.
